Darkness Before Dawn
by Tie-dyed Trickster
Summary: For men who have faced gods and demons and aliens, sometimes the most difficult - and terrifying - matters to travail against are those of the heart. Rated T because... it just feels like it should be.


_Note: This is kinda different than my previous pieces, if you've read them. Still ends well._

Tien is a light sleeper. It's a hold-over from his days when he was young, from when he was an assassin, a habit he's never quite dared to break. It doesn't take much to wake him.

So he always knows when Yamcha leaves. The other man moves quietly, not with the stealth that so often is more disruptive than normal movement, just quietly. Once the man had been a desert bandit, brash and bold, but now he's more like a thief, stealing himself from Tien's bed after each of their trysts.

It's a casual thing they have, a strange thing, never really spoken of or acknowledged until clothes are being torn away and they're moving together desperately, voices quiet, muffled by the darkness, the secrecy, moving until they both fall. There is no victor in this night-dark almost-battles, only ever a tie as they lie together, drifting to sleep together but waking up alone, Yamcha stealing himself away and leaving a secret in his place.

It's a secret Tien isn't supposed to know, but Tien is a light sleeper, and good at pretending that he's still asleep. Which is why he knows about the kisses. About how, before Yamcha goes, he always comes back, cups Tien's cheek with one hand, brushes a feather-light kiss on his forehead, right about his third eye, then pulls away, hand lingering for far longer than it has any need to, like Yamcha can't quite bear to let go, but he does, always he does, drifting away like a ghost, back to his lonely desert.

And, for a time, Tien lets him. At first because he doesn't understand himself, then because he is no better. Both of them have stood against men and demons and _gods_ , both have died to defend that which is most important, and both… both of them are cowards in matters of the heart.

But as time goes on, and nothing changes, it becomes apparent that one of them must move or this strange, unnamed thing between them will tear them apart in its namelessness, one of them must move or they will lose what little they have, one of them must move and it will not be Yamcha. Because Yamcha is the sort who, when he loves, does so with all he is. And he has already had his heart broken once. Even if it ended amicably, even if he no longer loves her, even if they're friends now… his heart was still broken, and he's still not sure if he ever found all the pieces. He will not risk himself so twice.

No matter how he wants to.

So it must be Tien, or this thing they have will end and they will simply be two men who know each other rather well, who have fought together and sometimes still train together, but still, two men, just two men, nothing more.

And Tien cannot stand the thought of that, good as it once was, he cannot go back to that, not now that he's had the barest taste of more. He fears the loss of it, fears the loss of those secret kisses, fears it more than he fears his own heart.

And so the next time Yamcha prepares to steal himself away, the next time his hand lingers longer than it needs to, Tien finally moves, opens his eyes and catches Yamcha's hand in his own.

Yamcha freezes, stock-still, eyes wide and scared as he stares at him. "Tien! I- oh kami, I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I'll go-"

He stops as Tien sits up, still holding his hand, pressing his cheek closer to it. "What if I don't want it to stop?" he asks quietly, "What if I don't want you to go?"

And Yamcha swallows but he doesn't resist when Tien pulls him closer, stands as well and releases Yamcha's hand so he can put his arms around him and they've never done this before, before has only ever been physical intimacy, not emotional, never emotional, not on the outside, not even in the darkness. And, for a moment, Yamcha does nothing, and Tien thinks he's blown it, that the once-bandit is going to bolt, and Tien will never see him again-

Then Yamcha's head drops to Tien's shoulder, his head drops and his arms rise to hold Tieb close. "If you're messing with me," he says quietly, "If this is a joke-"

"It's not," Tien assures him quickly, "I- I'm serious about this, want this, want more," he brings a hand up to cup the back of Yamcha's head, "Want _**you**_ ," he pulls the other man closer, "I want _**you**_ , Yamcha."

And Yamcha pulls back a bit to look at him, desperate and hopeful, and Tien's not sure what he sees but, whatever it is, it must be enough, because now the once-bandit is leaning forward again and they've never kissed before – what they had, it wasn't enough for kissing, for something so brave – but what was is not what is, and cowardice has finally been replaced by courage.

The kiss is not an arousing one, but it _is_ sweet, so sweet, and even when they break apart again they stay close, holding, embracing, no longer desperate, another layer of fear burned away, and Tien takes a step backwards, gently tugging Yamcha with him.

"Come back to bed," he says quietly, "Stay. Please stay."

"Okay," Yamcha says, slipping back out of his clothes again, following Tien under the covers, "Okay…"

There's a shyness to it, this new thing – they've touched each other everywhere, but this, this quiet intimacy, this utterly un-amorous thing, this thing you do only with someone you openly care about… they've never done anything like this before, and it's terrifying and wonderful, to curl against each other, to lie side by side out of a desire spawned neither by lust nor necessity, quiet and close and Tien and Yamcha…

Eventually the darkness of night gives way to the darkness of sleep gives way to the dawn, and when Tien opens his eyes Yamcha is still there, curled warm into his side and blinking at him sleepily. It takes the once-bandit a moment to understand what he is seeing, where he is, but Tien can tell the moment he does because that's the moment Yamcha smiles, smiles and closes his eyes, burrowing back down into Tien's side.

And Tien has never thought of joy as having a texture to it but he feels now, if he was asked, he would be able to answer. He would say it feels like a pair of arms wrapping around his ribs and long hair on his chest and a pair of lips smiling into his collarbone, like words on the back of his tongue that he can't quite taste yet, but which he knows will wait until he's ready to taste them, when the last layer of fear has finally burned away.

And until that day comes, he wraps his arms around Yamcha as well and settles for thinking them as loudly as he can, _'I love you. I love you I love you I love you…'_

OoOoOoOoO

…

…

… _this was supposed to be a fluffy piece about Tien proposing to Yamcha. WHERE IS MY FREAKING FLUFF?! Also, I had a hard time with the title. You all have no idea how close this thing came to being called 'to my fellow idiots on tumblr' or something similar. (to those of you on tumblr who know me, no insult meant – you guys are just stupidly good at getting me to write this stuff for you)._


End file.
